To Pull a Trigger

At first, it was only a faint squeak that caught my attention. Then, the telltale snap of the smallest twig. Drawing upon my finely honed hunting skill acquired from over a quarter century of combat with the mighty whitetail, I turn my gaze slowly, pinpointing nature’s alarm bells like a hunting machine.

Fawn bleat, crack, crunch… multiple deer! Instincts take over. Brain begins to battle physical reaction of muscle twitches. Twitches become spasms. Brown moving – one deer. Flash of white contrasted against the hunter green of swamp balsam and cedar – that’s two: doe and fawn. Spasms become convulsions. Arms flail miserably into air while heart pounds out of chest and eyes rotate independently. Could this be all – only two small deer? Man, I can’t hold rifle up; no feelings below waist yet sweat bleeding from forehead.